Twisted Fates -- BtVS Season 3 Re-told
by Shadows of Nightfall
Summary: Buffy's return to Sunnydale following the tragic events of Season 2 is a rocky road filled with secrets she must keep from her friends. Meanwhile, a troubled street kid, Charles Gunn, and a shy but pretty genius, Fred Burkle, arrive on the Hellmouth. New friends, new foes, and fates collide as the Slayer faces her toughest challenge to date – senior year. Guest: Angel, Spike, Faith


Twisted Fates

By Shadows of Nightfall

Rating: PG-13/R

Pairing: Buffy/Angel, Gunn/Fred, Cordelia/Xander, Willow/Oz. Appearances by Spike, Wesley and Faith.

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Joss Whedon.

Feedback: Gracias.

Distribution: Sure. Just tell me where.

Spoilers: Season 3 of BTVS. Starts in "Dead Man's Party."

Summary: Buffy's return to Sunnydale High following the tragic events of Season 2 is a rocky road filled with secrets she must keep from even her friends. At the same time, fate leads a troubled street kid, Charles Gunn, and a shy but pretty genius, Fred Burkle, to the Hellmouth. New friends, new foes, and fates collide as the Slayer faces her toughest challenge to date – senior year.

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Part 1 - The Rebel

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 **Sunnydale High School,**

 **October, 1998**

* * *

Charles Gunn wasn't much of a book guy.

The way his life worked out, he never had time to become one…though he wasn't really sure if he'd ever become one if he did have the time.

And he never did have that time between the last two years he had spent fighting demons and vampires on the streets of the Badlands in Los Angeles—a place so deadly and rife with crime that even the police would not go there—and the things he had to do on the sly to keep himself, his sister Alonna, and those in his crew alive.

One of those things involved his latest brush with the law…taking an outside job with a gang of hoodlums stealing the tires off a Ferrari left by a rather drunken pretty boy and his date on the side of Venice Boulevard on a Saturday night four months back in the spring. Unfortunately for Gunn, that pretty boy also happened to be the son of the mayor of L.A., Geoff Vargas, who had undercover cops tailing him as per his father's request.

Gunn remembered being rather impressed, as well as dismayed, at how fast they came, and how quickly they had the crew surrounded. And he would never forget how one of them sucker-punched him and tossed him towards the cops as a distraction while the others hightailed it out of there to safety…leaving Gunn to take the fall for their failed venture.

A venture set up by someone Gunn could not trace back with the exception of a name…someone by the name of Trick.

The irony was not lost on Gunn.

He should have gone to Juve, being only age 17, a year shy of being punished as an adult. But as luck would have had it, the orphaned Gunn, technically a ward of the state since his grandmother passed away last year, was part of a special program the mayor himself had proposed to help youths with criminal records reform themselves.

Rather than risk a political black eye that would have embarrassed him in his reelection campaign, Vargas arranged for Gunn to be transferred as quickly and quietly as possible out of Los Angeles to a place where his program could still keep Gunn in the fold and on the path away from crime-thus keeping the program's good name and "effectiveness" intact-yet out of his city's vicinity.

Which is how Gunn ended up right here, sitting in the cramped little office of a high school some 200 miles north of his beloved L.A. in a town that sounded like something made up for a population of Care Bears, directly across from a balding little man with an insufferable smugness and a face that vaguely resembled a rat's.

Wearing a black hoodie, baggy blue jeans and his favorite Air Jordans, Gunn sighed as he kept his surly poker face on, unimpressed by the seemingly condescending way the little man was towering over him, a pale manila file in his hand reading "Gunn, Charles J."

"Well, now, Mister…Gunn, is it?" Principal Snyder snorted, seemingly amused by the name. "Quite the name you've got there. Bet that flew real well with the hooligans you associated with at your last high school."

Ever stone-faced, Gunn sat there glaring at the little man, but not a word left his mouth.

"Oh, that's right," Snyder smirked in some satisfaction. "You dropped out of your last high school, didn't you?" Off Gunn's icy stare, Snyder's expression grew meaner. "Cat got your tongue, Mister Gunn? I think I asked you a question."

Chuckling dryly to himself, Gunn gave the man a sarcastic smirk. "Yes, sir. I dropped out. But, gosh, if only I had someone like you to look up…er, look _to_ …maybe my life wouldn't have been so gosh-darned sad!"

Recognizing the none-too-subtle crack about his height, Snyder's eyes narrowed, flexing the permanent record in his hand back and forth.

"Mister Gunn, I'll pay you the compliment of being blunt," Snyder said as he slowly walked around behind his desk, flipping open the file. "I don't want you in my school. You don't belong here, and you don't belong in this town, and this is strictly based on this file in my hand, which is less than impressive. Several counts of arson, breaking and entering, petty larceny, burglary…" he looked up and stared judgingly at Gunn. "…assault on a _police officer_ …"

"I was thrown into that cop, I never laid a hand on him," Gunn explained in a rather detached, almost bored manner. He'd faced down demons, vampires and racist cops since he was 12. He'd be damned if some little balding schmuck with a power trip was going to intimidate him.

"Be that as it may," Snyder waved off his comment dismissively, "the facts remain and the truth is simple—you should be in jail, not in school. And this school already has one bad element on its grounds, I certainly don't need another one…" he paused with distaste as he thought of the "bad element" in question; a certain little sarcastic, troublemaking blonde with a school librarian watching her. "But since the state of California has overruled me on this one, I don't really have a choice. So, the fact is, for the rest of this year, I'm stuck with you. However, I am going to warn you, Mister Gunn, that I will be watching you."

Snyder paused as he leaned in closer, giving what some youths would have found to be an intimidating, beady-eyed glare. "Like a hawk."

 _Really? Cause you look more like a rat to me, bruh_ , Gunn inwardly shot back, yet sat there silently, a cool expression on his face that gave away nothing.

"As per the youth program Vargas transferred you here with via our Socal Outreach Programs, your requirements are that you maintain a minimum 2.0 GPA, pass finals with a score of 70 or better and keep your nose clean for the next nine months before your out of my school…and my hair…forever," Snyder continued, smugly. "Screw up just one time, get into one fight, one altercation, give me any reason to think that you'll disturb the order I've worked so hard to establish here…and I get on the phone to your probation officer, which means you go to prison. Not juvey…a state penitentiary facility."

He walked around, standing above Gunn in a posturing stance. "I run a tight ship, Mister Gunn. Make any waves…and I _will_ throw you overboard. Are we clear?"

Recognizing this for what it was, a clear attempt at intimidation, Gunn decided to show this little troll of a man how it was done. Standing up very suddenly, Gunn towered easily over Snyder, who gulped nervously as he backed away unconsciously into his metal office desk.

Resisting the urge to smile, Gunn kept his face straight. "Yeah. I hear you loud and clear, Tiny Tim. For the record, I would have preferred prison over this place, myself. I grew up in a real town with real people. And I didn't ask to be transferred up here away from my sister and my people into… _Happyville_ or whatever the hell you call this dump."

"S-Sunnydale," Snyder indignantly corrected, cursing himself silently at the stammer in his voice.

"Whatever," Gunn snorted, dismissively. "Bottom line is this…yeah, I'll stay off your radar. Just don't give me any trouble, and we should be just fine."

At those words, Snyder indignantly straightened up. "Was that a threat, young man?"

Gunn let out a low chuckle that rumbled in his lean chest. It didn't take much for him to intimidate someone. With someone as spineless as Snyder, it hardly took anything at all.

"Trust me, Mister Snyder," Gunn smiled as he brazenly reached out and straightened the tie around the shaking tiny man's neck. "I'm not really a 'making threats' kinda guy."

As he turned around with his transcript in hand and made his way for his first class on the first day of his new school, Gunn couldn't resist one last dig, turning around and smirking at the scowling Snyder.

"I'm more of a man of action," he said, closing the door behind him.

* * *

TBC


End file.
